


Exoskeletons For Children

by curiouscorvid (prometheanTactician)



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: AU where they live right next to each other with windows facing each others rooms, Child Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Teens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-22
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2019-02-05 14:10:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12796188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prometheanTactician/pseuds/curiouscorvid
Summary: When he had first seen the boy beyond the window, they had only been ten years old.





	Exoskeletons For Children

**Author's Note:**

> the title is from the song of the same name by Squalloscope. You can find it on their bandcamp c: Let me know what you guys think! ♥

When he had first seen the boy beyond the window, they had only been ten years old. The window of the boys bedroom was directly across from his own, and most of the time he could clearly see beyond the glass. The boy read most of the time. Boring. Edward paid him no mind at times like that. But other times a woman would storm in and grab him by the arm, dragging him away and making him drop his book. Sometimes, Edward saw they heading out the back door shortly after. Sometimes they were simply gone. Sooner or later, the boy would return, and he’d be crying every time.

He was crying on the night Edward made a decision. In fact, Edward was crying too. He always cried after his father was done with him, and though he always did so alone, that night he had the thought that he didn’t want to be on his own. It took a lot of effort to get the window open, but he managed to lift it just enough to slip through and onto the roof-like ledges that met in the middle. Carefully, he picked his way across. He knocked on the boys window gently, nervous that the old woman might hear, and the other boys head shot up immediately.

He had such bright eyes.

They simply stared at each other for a long moment, before the hesitant boy crept to the window and struggled to open it. After a moment it slid up, and the two were face to face.

“Hello.” Edward greeted, because that was the polite thing to do. “I’m Edward.”

“Why are you here?” The boy’s voice trembled and he didn’t move aside to let Edward in.

“You’re supposed to tell me your name too.”

“...It’s Jonathan. Why are you here?”

Edward shrugged.

“To visit you.”

“...Why?”

“Because you’re upset, and I’m upset. Maybe we could be upset together.” As Edward spoke, the boy looked him over properly, eyes analytical and searching.

“I often see the large man yelling at you or causing you harm. I didn’t see that tonight.”

“It wasn’t in my room tonight. It was in the kitchen. I spilled some water.” He shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal. Jonathan nodded in grim understanding and moved aside.

“I didn’t do anything this time, but my mother did.”

“Your mother?”

“She was bad. Granny says I need to atone for her sins.”

“But you didn’t do anything.”

The boy just shrugged as Edward had.

“Don’t matter.”

“That’s dumb. Can I see your books?” He didn’t mean to change the subject so abruptly, but the boy was always reading. Edward wanted to know what caught his interest. Jonathan was taken aback, eyes wide behind his glasses.

“You like books?”

“You have to like books if people don’t like you.” He pointed out, looking through a haphazard pile of novels on the bedside table.

“...True enough.” Was all the boy said, before launching into a lengthy ramble about his favorite authors. Edward always seemed to talk, but he listened as Jonathan spoke. They spent the whole night together, until Edward was forced to climb back over to his own room. Still, he told Jonathan to climb over any time, and promised he’d be over again too.

Jonathan didn’t look like he believed him, but that was fine. Maybe he’d be convinced after the hundredth visit or so.

\-----

It was eight years later and it was far too late for anyone to be awake, but Edward didn’t have much choice in the matter. Even with his pillow pressed over his head, he could still hear the noise downstairs. The yelling, screaming, crashes, things smashing against the wall, curses and accusations. He eventually gave up, rolling onto his back and letting the pillow fall onto the floor. He stared vacantly at the water stains on the ceiling and tried to feel grateful that at least, this time, the anger wasn’t directed at him.

But that didn’t mean anything. Sooner or later, it would be.

He threw his legs over the side of the bed, rubbed his eyes and ran his hands through his tousled hair. No point trying to fix it. Jon had seen it in worse states. Hell, Jon had _left_ it in worse states. He didn’t bother to get properly dressed either. Pajama pants and an oversized shirt were just fine. Jon had seen him in less.

Hell. Jon had seen him in nothing at all.

He smirked when he thought of how much that would piss his father off if the old man ever found out. Then he frowned, awash with anxiety when he thought of how much that would piss Jon’s grandmother off if she ever found out. He stood before the window of his room and lifted it up, opening just wide enough for him to slip through. The chill hit him almost immediately. October. Jon’s birthday would be coming up soon.

The shingles of the roof were rough against his bare feet, but it was a sensation he was very much used to. He stayed low, shuffling across the roof and resisting the pull of the wind trying to carry him over the side. It was always a treacherous trip, but it was always worth it. Pressed as closely to the side of Jon’s house as he could get, he knocked gently on the glass. It was barely a moment before there was a boy on the other side. It hadn’t crossed Edward’s mind that Jon might’ve been sleeping, because Jon never slept unless Edward was with him.

The yelling filtered in from the still-open window of Edward’s house, until Jon pulled Edward in and lowered the pane behind him, blocking out the noise. Blessed silence fell, and for once Edward simply allowed it. He didn’t say a word. Instead, he pulled Jon closer by the front of his shirt and kissed him deeply. The response was immediate. Hands on his hips, being pressed up against the closed window. He wanted a distraction. He wanted to forget the screaming and the violence and forget that it would all be directed at him sooner rather than later.

It was impossible to think about that when Jon’s lips where on his neck and cold hands were sliding under his shirt. He was loud by nature, but he managed to silence himself for fear of waking Jonathan’s grandmother. Eventually, he finally slept, naked in Jon’s bed with long fingers tracing shapes on his scarred back. In the morning he’d have to climb back over. He’d have to return to his own home and face the ire of his father. But in that moment, in Jon’s arms, he was safe. He was content. He was in love.

The memory of it would come in handy, in the aftermath.

\----

It was early evening just a few days later. Edward’s father was still at work and his mother was out doing God knows what, and so he had the house to himself. He still stuck to his room. Whether they were home or not, the house never really felt safe. There was a knock at his window, and that was another reason to stay in his room. In case Jonathan came to call.

It was immediately apparent that he was in a bad way. He was shaking so hard Edward was amazed he made it across the roof, and as soon as Ed helped him through the window Jonathan was leaning on him heavily, trembling in his arms. Edward held onto him tightly and gently led him to sit on the bed. His eyes were far away, looking past Edward and seeing nothing. Carefully, moving slowly, Edward brushed his fingers along Jon’s cheekbones. Just the barest touch. Jon jerked as if he’d been slapped, his eyes snapping to Edward immediately with a wild panic.

Edward was not dissuaded. They had done this many times before.

The brush of fingers continued back through Jon’s hair, combing delicately through the tangled mess. His hands soothed over Jon’s shoulders and down his arms, taking his hands and giving them a gentle squeeze. He noted how Jon’s breathing was slowing, how his posture was relaxing. That told Edward to move to the next stage.

Still holding Jon’s hands, he pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. Then his cheek, first one and then the other, down the side of his face to his neck. The last kiss was pressed chastely to the crook of Jon’s neck, and then Edward let his head rest on Jonathan’s shoulder, his thumbs soothing over the backs of still-shaking hands.

Jonathan moved. He slipped his hands out of Edwards and wrapped long arms around him, pulling Edward close and holding him tightly as if he were a comfort object. Perhaps he was, in times like that. If that was true then he didn’t mind. He allowed himself to be tugged into Jonathan’s lap, let Jon bury his face in his hair and hold him tightly. The length of time he would have to stay like that varied depending on what had happened. As upset as Jon had been, it would likely be awhile.

Edward was awful at staying still, but he liked Jon holding him enough to stay put.


End file.
